


Between Thought and Reality

by devilsnowcandy



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Complete, F/M, Het, Masturbation, One Shot, POV Female Character, Rape Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsnowcandy/pseuds/devilsnowcandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her first meeting with him, Euphemia considers the character of the masked terrorist Zero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Thought and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the kinkmeme. Note: this is not incest.

Afterwards, when all the questions and medical checks are done and Cornelia is reasonably assured Euphemia is safe and healthy and wants her to get some rest, Euphy lies down in her bed and thinks. She thinks of the fear, the trembling of the other hostages, the corpses of the men around her as she stood in a dark room before her brother’s murderer – but she thinks mostly of him, of Zero himself.

He was taller than she’d thought he was, and his voice was deeper and more imposing in person than it was when filtered through the television. Everything about him was more when facing him in person, and looking back she’s amazed she had the strength to speak to him as she did.

He hadn’t killed her, and he hadn’t had her kidnapped. He hadn’t even touched her.

What if he had?

A sudden shiver goes through her, though she is perfectly warm and cosy beneath her blankets. She lays her hand on her lower abdomen and thinks, heart racing. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. But… what if he had touched her?

Not there, not surrounded by several dead bodies in a dark hotel room. But another place, perhaps – if he had taken her back to his lair. She considers building it up in its entirety in her mind, and then decides against it – just a large, dark room with a luxurious bed, perhaps, perfect for an elegant villain like Zero.

And – she would be bound. Waiting for him on the bed, a gag in her mouth, hands behind her back – her legs would be free, but she’d not dare to try and run from him. And besides, she’d be blindfolded, so he could do as he pleased without having to wear his mask.

She swallows and slides her hand up under her nightgown, shutting her eyes tight.

She wouldn’t be able to beg. She wouldn’t even be able to see him as he touched her, as he pressed his face to her hair, as he pushed up her skirt and pulled on her panties. She’d kick at him, perhaps, just the once – and he’d say something low and threatening, and she’d have to stop, panting with fear as he stripped her lower body bare and spread her wide open.

She can feel it, a shadow of the fear she felt in the hotel. What would he do to her, so open and vulnerable before him? He would take his time touching her, his warm, alien hands sliding between her folds, stroking her most intimate places.

Her own fingers slip into her underwear.

He would make her wet, shivering with fear and shame, and then he would pull back a moment to admire her. And she’d be lying there, wanting his hands again and fearing that any moment, any moment he would hurt her, cut her, kill her, abandon her…

Her breath is coming quicker, her fingers sliding against her clit in a steady rub. She tries to control her breathing – the walls are soundproof, but even so. Just in case.

He would push into her without warning, with hardly any preparation and she’d – she’d want to scream, but the gag would prevent it. It would hurt, and maybe she’d squirm, but he’d hold her down beneath him. And he would be silent, utterly silent as he did all this, and when he was finished he’d turn her over and do it all over again, thrusting into her with such strength he’d nearly make her suffocate against the pillows.

She gasps as she pushes her fingers into herself, enough that it stretches and hurts a little, but not enough to tear.

Afterwards, he would tell her in a falsely flattering voice how honoured he was to be granted the privilege of taking her virginity. And she’d be crying, and he’d offer to end her misery and she’d say please, please no.

And that would not be the end of it. He’d keep her there, for days maybe, and he’d – he’d make her suck his cock, push it in so far she’d nearly choke on it. He would fuck her and humiliate her and threaten her, and his dark voice and his long hands and his warm skin and the weight of his body would be all she’d know of him. And there would be no rescue.

She sighs loudly as she comes, back arching, thinking of the painful grip of his hands on her thighs, his mocking words at her ear, the ever present threat of a knife or a gun.

The covers, so comforting before, are nearly stifling now. She pushes half of them off, and lies, breathing hard, staring at nothing.

He didn’t touch her. He never would - kidnapping and raping Britannian princesses is probably nowhere on his to-do list.

She rolls over onto her side and tries to sleep.


End file.
